


Is This... Normal Parenting?

by flapdoodle_noodle



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, b!dbwm2020, bio!dad bruce wayne, bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26242153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flapdoodle_noodle/pseuds/flapdoodle_noodle
Summary: A collection on one shots for Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020. Enjoy!
Relationships: Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 25
Kudos: 331
Collections: Maribat Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne Month





	1. Day One: Meeting for the First Time

He had been in the middle of an overseas board meeting when he got that fateful call. 

Upon hearing his wife’s telltale ringtone, Bruce stood abruptly, startling a half-asleep Tim, who spilled his (thankfully cold) coffee on the papers in front of him. The rest of the board stared at the two, bewildered by the spectacle they had put on. 

“Excuse me,” Bruce cleared his throat, gesturing to the ringing phone in his hand. “I have to take this. It’s… urgent.” An awkward silence fell upon the group. “Please, continue on without me.” As he left the room, he placed the phone to his ear, answering the call. “Selina? Is something the matter?”

“BRUCE! You and Tim need to get to the landing pad _right now-” “_ Shut up and focus on driving, idiot! You’re gonna crash us into someone!” Two voices (of which neither were Selina, apparently) bickered loudly over the phone. The billionaire frowned upon recognizing the other people on the call. “Dick? Jason? What are you two doing with Selina’s phone?”

There was a pause as his two eldest sons pondered over what to say. 

“B, Selina’s in labor.”

Bruce dropped his phone, shocked by the blunt statement. 

After picking up the device off the white marble floor, and inspecting it for any cracks- thank god he had such a durable phone case, because there were none- he heard Dick shout at Jason over the phone.

“-not how you break such important news to him, Jaybird! You’re going to give Bruce a heart attack!” 

“Boys,” Bruce interjected warningly. “Stop fighting. Now, where’s Selina?”

“She’s with Cass and Damian. They went ahead and drove her to the hospital when her water broke earlier. We just sent the private jet to pick you and Timmy up, so we’ll see you in a few hours!” Dick replied cheerily as Jason hung up. 

Bruce stood still for a couple moments, his brain working to process the _entirety_ of whatever the hell just happened, before going back into the meeting room to drag Tim out to catch their jet and meet his wife.

*

After what felt like an eternity flying back to Gotham, they finally reached the hospital at around three. He was met with the sight of the rest of his sons lying around the waiting room. 

“She went in nearly seven hours ago. Cassandra went with her,” his youngest son recounted boredly, looking up at Bruce. “Hello, Father.”

“Damian,” he greeted his son absently. As he sat down in his own chair, he sighed deeply, exhausted by the mass of emotions and thoughts swirling in his head. 

“What’s up, B?” Dick asked him gently, plopping into the seat on his left. “Are you worried about Selina?” He paused, “Or is this about the baby?”

Bruce’s breath hitched slightly at his words. Damn. After sparing a glance at his other children dispersed around the room, he told Dick, “The baby wasn’t supposed to be due for a couple of weeks. I was going to be there, with Selina, my _own wife,_ in the delivery room when the baby finally came. I wasn’t prepared for this.” He hesitated, before whispering, “What if I’m not going to be a good enough father for her?”

Dick looked taken aback at his confession, before giving him a sympathetic look. “Bruce, nothing about parenthood is certain. It’s not really the same as planning ahead to take out villains, that’s for sure. Take it from me,” Dick chuckled, probably thinking of his own child, “It’s not going to be easy taking care of a baby. I mean, you _did_ have all of us as practice, given we were a little older, but hey, we turned out just fine!”

“Yeah, except for the fact that we all had screwed-up childhoods, two of us even died-” Jason interrupted from across the room. 

“Jason! Not helping!” Dick scolded him. Turning back to Bruce, he continued, “You’re not going to have to do this alone, B. You’ve always had Alfred, but now you have us.” he waved at the boys around them. “And now you have Selina.” His eldest smiled, patting Bruce on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be a _great_ dad for your baby.”

*

It was almost four in the morning when a doctor came to fetch him. “Mr. Wayne?” he called out, smiling nervously upon spotting him. “Your wife is out of labor, sir. She’s resting in the delivery room at the moment.” He gestured for Bruce to follow him. Glancing back at his sons, who were all nodding for him to go, he went after the doctor. 

After a few turns through the corridors, he was led to a white room, where he saw Cassandra on a couch to the side of the bed that Selina was laying in. Upon entering the room, he caught his wife’s eye. She looked up at him tiredly as he approached the side of the bed, a content smile on her face. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she joked. 

Bruce let out a small chuckle, setting himself down gently on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?” He leaned down over to kiss his wife’s cheek. 

The woman scoffed, before resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m going to take a nap. But I need you to look over a little kitten for me first.” Shifting back the off-white hospital sheet, she revealed a small, sleeping baby wrapped in a fluffy pink blanket, apple blossoms embroidered around the edges. “Say hello to Marinette,” she told him sweetly as she placed the bundle gently in his arms. She fell asleep shortly after. 

Cradling his baby to his chest, he stood slowly, bringing his forehead down to hover over the child’s. “Hello, Marinette,” he whispered softly, a single, happy tear making its way down his face. “It’s nice to meet you.”


	2. Day Two: Father-Daughter Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce takes Marinette out for the day.

To be honest, Bruce had no clue what he was doing. 

He had woken up that morning, resigned to another day of changing diapers and occassionally baby-talking to his daughter, when Selina told him to wear something nicer today. He complied, though confused by the sudden demand. His questions were answered when she shoved him out the door and into the car, where the baby car seat was fitted into the back. 

“You two should go do something together, to get out of the house,” Selina instructed him, buckling Marinette into the backseat. “Figure out what to do, you have the whole day… her things have already been packed-” she pointed to the rather heavy-looking baby bag in the seat next to him, “-and Alfred stored the kitten’s stroller in the trunk.” She smirked, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Enjoy your daddy-daughter day, Bruce.”

And now he was here, almost ten minutes later, still sitting in the driveway, with absolutely no clue what to do with his little girl. He could practically hear Selina and the boys laughing at his inaction from the Manor. Sighing deeply, he watched the baby in the rear-view mirror, facing away from him. “So,” he addressed her, and upon seeing her turn to face him, continued, “where do you want to go?”

Marinette stared at him with her big, blue, beautiful eyes, of which he got lost in for a long moment before her stomach answered for her. She sniffled loudly, snapping Bruce out of his trance. “Let’s get something to eat,” he decided. 

*

After picking up a coffee and a croissant for himself at the cafe counter, he sat them down at one of the booths further from the door for more privacy. Pulling out a jar of Marinette’s favorite food, he stirred it before offering a spoonful to the waiting baby. 

“Aah,” he mimicked in an unamused monotone. The girl surveyed his actions with the same emotion reflected on her face. He scoffed. “I don’t understand why you insist I do this, you don’t make your mother do this. Only me,” he grumbled, placing the food into his own mouth. “Mmm.” He grimaced at the taste of room tmperature carrot chunks and peas. Marinette blinked innocently, taking the next bite he held out for her enthusiastically. 

*

As he secured Marinette back into her seat, he asked, “Where to next, Mari?” Said baby made grabby hands at the bag tucked under his arm, pulling out her stuffed bat (courtesy of Dick) and waving it in his face. “You want to see animals?” After a hum of confirmation, he nodded, squeezing her hand gently. “Alright, we’ll go see the animals.”

*

Pushing Marinette’s stroller around the zoo, he sighed internally at the whispers and pictures being taken of him and Mari, already dreading the “New Wayne” rumors he would probably see in the tabloids tomorrow. Keeping his focus on the baby in front of him, he let Marinette point him to the animals she wanted to see. 

They visited the tigers, rhinos, and elephants before stumbling upon the bat exhibit. Looking up at all the small creatures, she babbled happily, waving her arms for him to pick her up. Lips upturned slightly, he complied, lifting her up and bouncing her in his arms. She squealed, slapping his shoulder playfully. Turning back to the bats sleeping upside-down near the top of the exhibit, she held out a hand. 

“Dada,” she told him. Bruce froze before looking at her in shock (over the fact that it was her first word, or the implication of her action, he wasn’t too sure. Maybe it was both). He gave his child an uncharacteristic grin before kissing her forehead. 

“Yes,” he followed her gaze up to the bats, “It’s Dada.”

*

On the drive back home, Marinette, asleep in the backseat, Bruce dialed Selina’s number. 

“Bruce?” His wife’s voice answered through the car’s speaker. “Is something wrong? You’re coming home earlier than I thought-”

“Marinette said her first word today. It was Dada,” he reported smugly. There was a pause on both sides of the call. “You’re kidding,” Selina guessed. He replied with silence. 

“You’re actually being serious,” she said, before yelling profanities over the call. He winced at the words, grateful that Marinette was sleeping. “Damn it, Bruce! I missed her first word?! Did you even record it?” Now sweating nervously, he remained silent. Selina’s now-dangerous aura seeped through the phone. 

“Bruce Wayne. You had one fucking job-”

“I think she knows I’m Batman,” he blurted out. He cursed himself for the slip up, screaming internally at how many times worse he just made his situation. “She was pointing at the bats in the zoo exhibit when she said it,” he explained.

_“What?”_

…he could tell he was in for it when they got home. 


	3. Day Three: Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette hangs out with the Batboys.

“I still don’t understand why B made all of _us_ look after Pixie Pop,” Jason wondered, lazily sipping from his Capri Sun. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love her to death, and I get that he was pretty desperate to go out with Selina, but I wouldn’t trust us with a child if we were the last people on Earth. Well, doubly excluding Damian, since he’s just a kid himself.”

“I’m not the child here, Todd,” Damian shot back at Jason from his spot on the far side of the couch. “After all, I’m not the one who needs a juice pouch from his mother to shut him up.”

“First thing wrong with that statement: Capri Sun is a gift from God and it doesn’t deserve to be disrespected like that. Second: did you just refer to Dick as my fucking _mommy???”_

 _“_ Guys, shut up,” Tim hissed, gesturing to Marinette, who was playing with her building blocks on the rug. “You’re both being bad influences on her right now.”

“Nah,” Jason pushed himself up out of his seat to join his little sister on the floor. “It’s all good. Right, Pixie?” Said girl nodded along absently, only half-listening to him while she worked on the structure before her. After a minute she finished her task, pulling Jason’s sleeve to grab his attention. 

“Hmm?” Jason squinted at the blocks to read the word they spelled out. “An-noy-ing… hey, where’d you even learn that word, let alone how to spell it-”

“Look what I got us!!” Dick burst loudly into the room, which startled Marinette into toppling over her blocks. Throwing the bags he was carrying onto the couch (and an unsuspecting Tim), he pulled out a pink wooden toy sword from behind his back, holding it out to Marinette. “This is for you!”

“Dick? What are these?” Tim asked curiously, looking through the contents of the bags. He squinted as he brought out more swords. “What on Earth- how many swords did you buy?” 

“I thought Father wanted us to keep her away from anything ‘dangerous,’“ Damian frowned as he turned one of the swords in his hands, testing its weight. 

“Well, they’re not really that dangerous,” Dick reasoned. “She won’t get hurt with these. And besides,” his eyes fell upon the infant in question, grinning at what he saw. “I think she likes them.”

Tim and Damian followed the elder’s gaze to find Marinette staring at the pink sword she was holding, eyes sparkling in delight. Shakily, she stood up and waddled over to Jason, who sat up at her approach. 

“BANG!” she shouted enthusiastically, placing the tip of her sword over Jason’s chest. With a fake gasp of pain, he flopped to the ground, hand clutching the wound. 

“M-mari, how could you do this to meeeee~” he trailed off, drooping his head to the side. Giggling triumphantly, Marinette climbed onto her fallen brother, settling herself down into a criss-cross applesauce position on his stomach. She flashed her audience a victory sign, accompanied by a wide grin. 

“JUSTICE FOR JASON!!” Dick cried, picking up a wooden sword of his own. He charged her, and the two fell into a heated duel. 

“Pfft,” Tim snorted. “Did she just use a gunshot sound effect when she stabbed Jason?”

“Yes, how hilarious, Drake,” Damian rolled his eyes. Surveying the fight in front of them, he scoffed. “Though it is rather amusing how badly Grayson is pretending to lose.”

And yes, because Dick Grayson is a good older brother (his words, not mine), he was letting his sweet baby sister Marinette win. After getting his sword twisted out of his grip, which he had to admit was pretty impressive for an untrained two-year-old, he held his hands up in surrender. 

“Oh, Mari, I give up! You skills are far beyond anything I could imagine, let alone compare myself to!” he gushed dramatically, eyes peeled for an opening. After a good moment, Marinette lowered her sword warily, and he knocked it out of her hands, scooping her up into the air. “Gotcha!” he smirked victoriously, tickling the captured brother-killer with no mercy. 

Marinette squeaked, shoving her hands into his throat. Through her wheezing, she choked out a small “Help!” to the others (minus the dead one on the floor) desperately before she was overwhelmed, squealing joyfully. 

Much to everyone’s surprise, it was Damian who rushed to her aid. “Unhand her, you bastard!” he demanded, tackling Dick to the floor, who, very stupidly, threw the infant he was holding into the air. Tim leapt to catch her, and the five ended up in a groaning pile on top of Jason. There was a moment of silence before they burst into laughter, Damian smirking slightly. 

“What in the world is going on here?” Their heads swiveled to the doorway, where Bruce was standing with a somewhat confused expression on his face. From his side, Selina was grinning at the sight. 

“We were-”

“It was-”

“We had-”

“Play fight!” Marinette responded with a wave of her sword (none of them knew how or when she had even gotten it back). Clambering down from the stack of bodies, she stepped into her mother’s waiting arms. 

“I thought we said no weapons?” Bruce raised an eyebrow as he made eye contact with Dick, who shrugged innocently. 

“What can I say? I just thought that if she’s anything like us, she’d love to try one out. We _are_ siblings, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last line is SO CHEESY EWW


	4. Day Four: Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Batfam learns just how influential they can be.

Bruce was finally beginning to understand just how impressionable a toddler could be. Especially one living in a family with such a wide variety of personalities, moods, and traits that they could film a new Netflix original drama on their own.

*

Marinette picked up some really good mannerisms. After spending quality time with Steph and Cass, she was beginning to learn how to read people’s emotions at a deeper level and act accordingly, usually resorting to cheering people up by slapping her hands on her cheeks and making funny faces.

The hours she spent with Tim also paid off, as she would frequently be found doing all sorts of puzzles and riddles with him, huddled in blankets by the fireplace on colder nights.

She also loved being around Alfred, and liked to help him prepare meals for the family. She especially liked baking; the cookie jar was always full with chocolate chip cookies and macarons. There was obvious joy on her face when she shared her creations with the rest of them.

But no one expected what was to come after these couple months of bliss.

*

Things started to go downhill when Jason took her with him to meet Roy and his other friends while he was babysitting. Marinette began mixing words like _the fuck word_ and Jesus into her sentences. In her own way, of course.

“Can’t find fawking pencil,” she grumbled, scribbling angrily in pink crayon. Bruce’s newspaper went slack in his hands, flopping in half pathetically.

“Mari, what did you just say?” His daughter furrowed her brow in annoyance as she clenched her crayon tightly. 

“Cheez-its Christ,” she groaned, throwing her hands up in the air. “Can’t. Find. Fawking. Pencil!” she repeated impatiently. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, he plucked a pencil from his breast pocket, holding it out to the girl. “And who taught you that word? Fawking?” Marinette visibly brightened at the sight of the pencil, swiping it and tapping it on her chin in thought. 

“Jay-Jay ‘n Jay-Jay’s friends!” she smiled, going back to her word puzzle. He could feel a headache washing over him. 

That feeling stayed with him for the next few days. The house was filled with shouts of “Fawk you” and “Cheez-its Christ” from both Marinette and her older brothers. 

*

Marinette took to Selina’s smooth moves like a fish in water. 

Anything of value could no longer be kept on anyone. Wallets, keys, his wedding band, even Tim’s coffee mugs… nothing was safe (with the exception of Alfred and Cass). 

“Father!” Damian stormed into the study, dragging a wiggly Marinette behind him. “I found this miscreant-” he let go of the toddler’s arm, “-outside my room, and also found my Batarangs missing from their drawer. I know this is her doing, but she won’t confess!” He squinted at the offending girl dangerously. “I demand justice.”

“Damian, we have more in the Batcave,” Bruce sighed, wondering if this was how Judge Judy felt when she had to deal with cases as tiring as this one. “And Marinette, you should know those don’t belong to you, they’re Damian’s.” He shifted his gaze to his youngest, only to find both her and his desk plaque gone. “… never mind,” he muttered. 

“This means war,” Damian stomped away, probably going to grab his spare katanas from under his bed. “Watch out, Marinette.”

It turns out that Marinette also developed some of Damian’s violent and merciless behavior, if the way they found him pinned to the wall by his own stolen Batarangs the next morning had anything to say about it. 

*

But those little quirks, in Bruce’s opinion, were nothing compared to whoever she was emulating this time. 

She would spontaneously go into a contemplative silence, reverting back to one-to-two word sentences. She would also brood in the corner of whatever room she was in, muttering about ‘darkness’ and ‘bats.’

Bruce didn’t understand it himself, but those who did (read: everyone but him) found the notion hilarious. It was more so when he would openly state his confusion; even Alfred would chuckle at him. However, no one would answer his questions. 

One long week after Marinette’s emotional U-turn, and a long week of being kept in the dark, Selina finally took pity on him. “Just ask her who she is,” she instructed him. “And pretend to be a reporter when you do it.” 

Needless to say, he didn’t sleep that night, trying to figure out whatever the hell she meant by that. And who his daughter was pretending to be. 

So after breakfast, he sat a disgruntled Marinette down on the couch cushion next to his. Feeling slightly ridiculous, he mimed holding an imaginary microphone up to the grumpy child. “Who are you?” he demanded. 

A scowl formed on the little girl’s face, and she pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up over head, covering the top half of her face down to her nose. “I am Batman,” she replied darkly, trying to imitate the vigilante’s deep voice. Howls of laughter could be heard from the adjacent room. 

Ah. That’s why she was being so difficult. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed I've made Bruce kind of a dumbass... like so much for world's greatest detective
> 
> (Batman stans I'm sorry please don't hurt me-)


End file.
